


Good-Luck Gift

by SaraJaye



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Jaffar Being a Badass, Married Life, Minor Violence, Nino Being Awesome, Post-Game(s), Superstition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't need a plant to protect him, but she insisted. And he could never refuse her anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good-Luck Gift

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written these two in forever, not since I finished Spells and Daggers. But suddenly I had a craving. This is set after the epilogue but before the bounty hunter business starts, and Jaffar works as a bodyguard for the village cleaning up stray bandits.

She didn't even have to announce her presence; even without his senses trained to pick up every movement or souns around him he would know her footsteps anywhere, sense her smile. He turned around and sure enough, Nino stood proudly in front of him.

"I brought you something," she said, holding out her hands. "Want to try to guess what it is?" Jaffar smiled a little, whenever she said _guess what_ she knew he'd never actually guess and she didn't mind. She just said it for the fun of it.

"A sharp rock?" he ventured.

"Nope!" She opened her hands and all he saw was a tiny speck of green. "This!"

"...it's a leaf."

"No, it's a four-leaf clover! I picked it for you to bring into the next skirmish!" She looked so proud of herself, as if she'd just discovered a substance more valuable than gold or some revolutionary concept like horseless wagons. He stared at it, expecting it to do something, _anything_ but just sit there.

"What's it for?"

"For _you,_ silly!" She laughed. "No, but really, put it on your collar or your dagger's hilt and it'll keep you safe all battle!"

"Nino, I don't need a plant to keep me safe," he said. "I've survived on my own skill since I was a child, and that's all I'll ever need." He braced himself for a pout, but all she did was frown and furrow her brow.

"Jaffar, I've seen you get hurt at least twice. You can't dodge everything the enemy throws at you," she pointed out. This was true, he reasoned, but his injuries had been minor at most and easily fixed by a healing staff or the application of a vulnerary.

"No one's killed me yet."

"But they _could!_ Please, just wear it for this one battle. For me." Usually when a girl wanted something from her husband she would pout and make big, wide eyes at him but Nino didn't have to. Just seeing that innocent face looking so deadly serious was enough to make him reconsider.

"It's just a plant. Superstition is meaningless." But he knelt down and let her slip the clover into his headband anyway. "The enemy could easily slice it off, you know."

"Nope!" She tucked it away until only a tiny bit of green was peeking out. "Nobody will know it's there but us!" she chirped. Jaffar sighed. _You fell in love with her. You let this happen,_ a cynical part of himself chided, but he shrugged it off. Silly superstitions like this were worth all the good they'd done each other over the last year.

"All right," he said. "I still don't think it's going to do anything I can't do myself, but if it makes you feel better."

"It does. Thank you, Jaffar!"

"I'd only do this for you, you know." He leaned down to kiss her, brushing a stray lock of messy green hair behind her ear. "I'll see you later." She saw him off with a smile and he shut the door behind him.

There was a big group of them that day, the leader twice his size. A few of his fellow guards suffered injuries and one even needed to withdraw when his good arm was too badly bruised. But not a single axe, sword or arrow so much as grazed Jaffar before he sank his daggers into the offender's flesh. When it was over, he took the clover from his headband and gazed down at it, still as pristine and whole as when Nino gave it to him.

Maybe there _was_ something to the superstition after all.

Or maybe it was because _she_ was the one to give it to him.


End file.
